


Swag Stag and Shuttershades

by LadyoftheNight



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Pure Crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 05:45:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1129038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyoftheNight/pseuds/LadyoftheNight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I had to write something</p>
    </blockquote>





	Swag Stag and Shuttershades

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Madison the assbutt](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Madison+the+assbutt).



> I had to write something

When Legolas saw Tauriel and that one dwarf talking, he knew what his plans for that night would be.  Well, getting completely smashed had already been the plan, but now he just wanted to do it faster.  

As the elven prince slowly made his way back to the party above, he wallowed in self pity.  Sure, his wonderful father would never have allowed him to even go out with Tauriel, but as the heir to the throne of Mirkwood and second most fabulous Eldar in Middle Earth, Legolas was used to being the center of all affections of anybody he met, especially all the female elves.  Now though?  Now his attention from the pretty Captain of the Guard was being stolen but a _dwarf_.  Sure, the dwarf was probably the best looking of the mountain dwellers he'd ever seen (certainly not as bad as that orc-mutant child he saw a picture of), but how much was that actually saying?  The dwarf's hair wasn't as perfectly straight or well kept as Legolas', nor was he blond.  Blondness was probably one of the best features possible.

That and gorgeous blue eyes.

The only thing Legolas could possibly have in common with such an ugly creature was archery, but he was very sure he was the best archer in all of Arda.  If not, he'd go shoot some giant spiders or his dad's throne for practice.  Well, maybe not the throne.  Thranduil had locked him out of the wine stash last time the king had found an arrow in his precious chair.

 

Finally, Legolas was at the top of the staircase.  He'd been complaining for years that he wanted servants to carry him around, but his dad had said he'd get fat then.  No member of the Mirkwood royal family was allowed to get fat, so Legolas was forced to walk far too much for his taste.

His thoughts as he entered the grand hall were bitter and complaining, but everything fell away when he caught sight of what his father was doing.

Thranduil was completely shnokered already, that much was obvious.  His crown had gotten so tangled in his long, blond hair that Legolas knew there'd be tears later.  At first, he thought Thranduil was dancing.  Then he realized the king was actually trying to walk.  Considering there were absolutely no railings in their kingdom, that was probably a bad idea.

Hey, maybe Legolas would be King of the Woodland Realm muh sooner than he'd thought.

As wonderful as that thought was, he was unfortunately aware of Thranduil's good health.  A fall over one of the pathways would only make him angry, and then there wouldn't be any parties for, like, a century.  Legolas would even go on some stupid quest for entertainment if that happened.

 

Shaking his head, the prince found himself a bottle of wine and sat down carefully on the edge of a pathway, far from his inebriated father.  The last thing he needed was Thranduil trying to teach him about 'fashion'.  What could such an old elf possibly know of true fashion?  Legolas was definitely the best dressed elf in all of Arda.  He did not need pink shutter shades or a moose/elk thing.  Everyone knew green shutter shades were the best and antlers were so out this season.

 

It was two hours later that Legolas was finally almost drunk.  He'd found his shutter shades a while ago, and had just now decided he needed to steal his father's and throw them in Mount Doom.  Maybe that would get rid of the creepy spiders he and Tauriel kept having to hunt.  After all, throwing stuff in Mount Doom was supposed to destroy bad things.  He was pretty sure.  It was worth a try.

Thranduil chose that moment to seize his son's shoulders and collapse by the edge of the path.  The bubbly, groaning noise that followed was not at all appetizing, which made Legolas mad.  Really?  All he wanted was to get piss drunk and here his dad was, already there and flopping around like a dead orc.  His life was so unfair.

"Daaaaaaaaad," Legolas whined, "Go away.  Nobody likes you when you drink."

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." Huh, Thranduil was sounding fine.  Legolas wondered if that was a gift he had.  It was probably useful in drinking games.

"I came over here-" A loud burp emanated from the king's usually tense mouth. Hehe, maybe Daddy wasn't so perfect after all.  

"As I was saying, I have come to tell you that you must find new shuttershades."

Legolas turned to stare at his father.  "Why?"

"Because green is a terrible color I will have no son of mine wearing."

"We live in Mirkwood, one of the great _forests_!  There's green everywhere."

"Exactly, you cannot wear such a common color."

"No."  Legolas crossed his arms and turned away, hoping Thranduil would get the hint.  Apparently he did, for when the prince got up to find more wine, Thranduil was nowhere in sight.

 _Good._ Finally, Legolas could enjoy some peaceful partying with his friends and not fear his father's usually lame intrusion.  He was just popping open a new bottle with a pretty elf who he had not yet met (hey, sometimes miracles happen), when there was a loud crash from down the path.  Everyone turned to look, the wine and food temporarily forgotten by all but the most fabulous.  Legolas took the oppurtunity to start on his fresh bottle.

It was only when Thranduil returned, his crown completely sideways, his shuttershades lopsided, and practically lying across the back of his elk that Legolas stopped.  He was absolutely horrified.  Now there was no way anyone would want to talk to him for weeks.  There went his social life.  Ugh, he'd have to find something to distract him.  Maybe hunting down something would help.

"My subjects!" Thranduil called.  "I have decided that this festival for the stars should continue for another six days!"

Cheering errupted, but Legolas wanted to melt into the wood right then and there.  His father made it worse by coming over to him and attempting to tug him onto the elk.

"I command you to get onto my Swag Stag this instant!  We're going to get you new shuttershades!"

"But _Daaaaaaaaad_."  Legolas crossed his arms and plopped down, refusing to move.  "Pink is so _old_."

A gasp came from all the Eldar within earshot, and everyone took at least a step back from the Swag Stag.

The King of Mirkwood rose up to his full height, and with the elk helping, that was rather tall.  "How dare you insult me so in front of our subjects.  You're grounded.  No more parties for you until the next age!"

"How could you?" Legolas whispered.

"You have brought this upon yourself."  With that, Thranduil turned his Swag Stag away and began majestically making his way to the throne.

 

Legolas ran to his room, where he cried for a while and began to plot the downfall of the pink shuttershades and the third age.

 


End file.
